


Working for It

by ImaKaraTabiHe



Series: Speedster Family [36]
Category: The Flash - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Cute, Drug Dealing, Drugs, Gotta make $$$ somewhere, Humorous Ending, Mild Language, Money, Running, Secrets, Some Humor, Workplace, pharmaceuticals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 22:19:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14554740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaKaraTabiHe/pseuds/ImaKaraTabiHe
Summary: Wally knows the Rogues spend a lot of money keeping him fed whenever he's with them... How could he not want to help them out with that?Wait.. A job?  Easy.  Right?





	Working for It

Being a superhero isn't easy. It involves dashing into dangerous situations, escaping by a fiery hair, collapsing when it's over because _damn_ that was _close._ Wally's done some risky things to get the job done, that's for sure. Some _stupid_ things too.

But the stupidest thing he's done? It's getting this part-time job.

Earning money is a difficult thing. A necessary thing. It's one of those things you can't get away without having. Wally's heard some horror stories about jobs (not counting his uncle's). Who wants to be forced to work overtime? Who wants to never have time to see their friends? Who wants to be  _underpaid,_ struggling to afford the bare necessities?

Not Wally, that's for sure.

Hero biz just doesn't pay much. Wally gets some snacks from kind, grateful people he's saved and fans, but not money. And a person wouldn't be much of a hero if they demanded money to save someone. Nope! Definitely something Wally's never going to be doing.

He  _likes_ being Kid Flash. No matter that it doesn't pay.

Still…

Money has to come from somewhere, and if you want something, you have to have it.

Well, Wally  _wants._ Not for himself, mind you, but he wants.  He wants to be able to help the Rogues out. Not by stealing, of course, but through this job. They feed him time and time again, and Wally can't help but feel a little bad that they're spending so much on it. (It's more than likely stolen money too, but Len says that it's 'good' money. Whatever that means.)

He wants to treat them to something for a change. It's silly, he knows, and Uncle Barry doesn't know, but yeah. Why not?

That's why he ignores the rumors he hears when he gets a job at a local pharmacy in some small town about a 15 minutes super-speed run away. He hears that it's “hard to work for him”, but the owner smiles and says that he has “a good feeling about [Wally]”. He ignores the rumors, because even if they are true, he's not going to be working there forever.

“Not forever.” - It's that thought that keeps him putting on a polite smile whenever he sees his boss slip some pills to customers who “lost their medicine and bottle”. And if someone came up to the Consultation Sign to whisper in his boss' ear… Wally tried not to focus too much on it. Even if he was more curious than George.

S ince working there, he has days when he wakes up and remind himself, “Don't get fired. Don't get fired. Don't get fired.” Not like it helps much, but James once told him it worked with getting the toys he wanted from claw games. ..A little bit different subjects, but what's he got to lose?

“Hey!” Gab, the owner, yells at him. “You're leaning on the counter again! Stand up straight.”

“Yes, Gab,” Wally blandly replies, even as he puts on a fake smile. 'Not that anyone's here… But there are no chairs, no sitting allowed. Even on _weekends.'_ Wally grimaces. Standing still is definitely not his specialty. His legs are good, but his energy… It drives him to near insanity to stand still sometimes at the registers.

His legs tingle and ache as the Speed Force runs through them, urging him to just give up and run away, to let loose… If only he could.

The random, last minute schedule changes are making him irritable. Why is there no one on back-up in case something happens? Just randomly call and employee and be like, “We need you to come in.” Maybe it's just him, but shouldn't there be at least one extra person, so you don't call someone who may be unreachable?

(And Wally's said 'no' every now and then, because he really can't make it in. Like.. He's not going to leave in the middle of a mission or chasing after a baddie to go to work. Get mad at him _all_ you like.)

Still.. at least with he can talk with the customers when they come in. That's something. Takes his mind off of where he is. Wally just wants to get through this though.

“...Can you imagine a world with those _freaks?_ What's wrong with them? 'Confused'? What the fuck is that nonsense?” a rude customer rants.

Wally wants to reach over the counter and pop him in the face. No one else is defending trans-people. He can't believe this is what the world is coming to. People feeling free to spread such hate in public without caring about others… He takes note of the transphobic man's name as he hurries to get the _a-hole_ out of there as one of his co-workers looks anxious in her world.

(And if the man gets a visit from Kid Flash… Well, he has nothing to do with it.)

Payday is once a week, which is good. He likes getting them, stuffing them safely away until he can get to a bank to cash it. Wally has a special safe he made to keep all the money he earns in. No sense in keeping it all in a bank if the Rogues might end up robbing it. He wants to give it to them, not have it stolen by them. There's a difference.

Wally sighs as he dumps the trash out. Finally, it's time to get off. He's just exhausted. Listening to Gab babble about the politics sucks. The man just doesn't have it in him to like helping others. It's hard to believe that the man can believe that some people have rights and some just don't any. 'Hateful…'

“Now… You're going to be extra careful with these,” he hears Gab's voice as he walks passed the office. “If the Feds find out where you got these Class 2 drugs, I'll be shut down.”

Wally freezes the moment he hears that, slowly moving into a better place to eavesdrop.

“No prob, Boss. We'll use these _very_ carefully,” a voice he's never heard replies. It's a man, gruff in speech. There's the sound of a case opening. “Your usual.”

Now Wally's got to see what this is all about, so he crouches low and peeks through the cracked glass of the door. Gab has a wicked grin on his face as he counts through a wad of money before pulling another wad from the case on his desk.

The man across from him is dirty looking, tattooed and wearing a leather jacket and black jeans. His face is scarred like he's been in one too many bar brawls.

'Bad guy,' Wally knows instantly. Not really a secret, huh?

Wally pulls his phone from his vest pocket and hits 'record'. Hey, if Kid Flash suddenly showed up, it would be suspicious, wouldn't it? “Why did Kid Flash appear? How did he know what was going to happen? _Where did that new kid go?”_ Yeah… Nah.

“How is the new product?” Gab asks, leaning back with a face full of satisfaction at the pay.

“Goin' well, Boss. Talk's been happenin' of others wanting in on the action. Maybe we expand our sales soon,” the man says, clearly looking forward to the expansion of whatever drugs it is.

Wally's nose scrunches up with distaste. He definitely doesn't like the idea that he's been working for this secret drug lord for several months. Nope. Not at all.

“It had better be just talk,” Gab growled. “The last thing I want is some copper stumbling upon our play because some idiot decided to expand business around here. This isn't a big ass city where we can hide our deals under every other shit problem. Small towns mean less suspects, and let me assure you,” Gab leans forward, eyes narrowing, “I will very unhappy if anyone disobeys me. Got it?”

“R-Right, Boss.”

Even Wally can't help but shudder at that. Unfortunately, it's one of those full body shudders and, with his shoulder against the counter, an unstable bottle tips and falls onto the ground. It crashes with the pills making a loud jumble inside.

Everyone freezes.

'Uh-oh.'

The chairs in the office slide against the floor with horrible scratches. “Who's there!?” Wally fumbles with his phone, slipping it into his pocket and hurriedly getting into the camera's blind spot. Out of sight, he grabs a pill bottle and puts it on the floor, kicking up a piece of the carpet…

A second before the door flies open, Wally's sprawled on the carpet. His toes hanging on the flipped up carpet, looking the perfectly innocent picture of a clumsy kid who merely fell.

“Gab!” Wally gasps, feigning surprise and embarrassment. “I am so sorry! I just went to return a bottle and my foot got caught and I tripped. I managed to land softer, but the bottle… not so much.” His cheeks redden.

Gab glares at Wally. “You should learn to walk right. Get everything put back in order, and then you can leave for the night.”

Wally nods, slowly as he gets up. “Umm… my check?” Heck if Wally was leaving without his money. If he didn't get it now, then he wouldn't get it ever. He's not planning on having a place to work tomorrow.

“I've told you, when you come _in_ get it,” Gab bites, looking at him with cold eyes. Honestly, even when he smiles at customers with his nice guy act, Wally cringes.

“Sorry, Gab!” Wally apologizes, sheepish as he fixes things.

Gab huffs and turns around, digging through a folder to pull out the check. “Here,” he says handing it to Wally. “Try not to drop it like you do everything else.”

“Yes, Gab,” Wally dutifully replies. He's so rolling his eyes internally though. So hard.

“Get, brat.”

And Wally gets. He hurriedly grabs his things and slides over to one of the master computers and activates a virus that he planted when he first started. Hey, if this place was going down, Wally wasn't going down with it. If there's one thing he learned, it's that he sinks. Fast. He certainly didn't want any information about his presence being noticed there. (“I mean, I'm using a fake name, but still.”)

Walking out the doors, he watches the lights dim as the store closes. “Should've been one of those nice 'mom-and-pop' stores.” Wally shakes his head and walks away.

Once he's clear of the town, he lets that tingle in his legs go. And oh, it's so nice to be running again. So good to feel the wind rushing through his hair. Wally's missed this.

It's dark when he arrives back to the Rogues' safe house. (He told his aunt and uncle he was spending the night there.) It's a tired sigh that he breathes out when he walks inside and finds the Rogues gone. Hopefully, they weren't fighting his uncle. It would suck for them to realize he hadn't actually been with the Rogues when he was supposed to.

'Ah, whatever.' Wally yawns and plops down on the couch. He's exhausted. Hungry. He's too worn to actually get up and make anything. Looks like he's going to give Mick the puppy eyes when they get back.

He gets comfortable on the couch, pulling a light blanket down over him and clicking the TV on. It's easy enough to switch his attention back and forth anyways. Before he falls asleep, Wally pulls out his phone and sends a very heavily encrypted recording to the authorities.

Wally doesn't sign his name to it. Just sends it from 'Anonymous'. This time there's no Kid Flash getting involved. No Wally West either. It's still him. He's just nameless.

He lets his eyes slip closed and goes to sleep, knowing that before long the news will grab hold of it. Wally's job is done.

  


~

  


Except Wally wakes up to find himself surrounded by Rogues _and_ Flash. “Something you want to tell us, Kid?” Cold frostily says with a glare.

'Uh-oh…' Wally clears his throat, looking at each and every face looking at him before falling back to Len. “Umm…” he dashes out of the room real quick – which Flash gives him a confused look for – an then returns with a handful of checks. “Here?”

Unfortunately for them, it's not an answer. It gives them more questions, more demands as to “What the fuck this is” and “Who the fuck is 'Allen Kidder'?” (The name doesn't amuse them.)

So… Wally explains it. And it sounds really _dumb_ once he says it out loud. Like, for someone with his brain, what the heck was he thinking? He doesn't know.

Everyone stares at him for a while before exchanging looks with one another.

Flash coughs lightly. “You know… The Rogues are actually pretty rich, right? Cold has a bunch of stocks and stuff in all kinds of companies to tide them over in case a plan goes bad.”

Wally blinks. “No way.”

Len has the gall to lean forward and smirk. _“Way.”_

'Well.. damnit. That was pointless,' Wally thinks with a sigh. “At least I broke up a drug ring,” he muses out loud.

“You what?” Mick growls.

“Um…” Wally stutters. “Y-You know what? I'm kind of hungry. Got any food?”

“Yeahhhh~ No. After you spill, Baby Flash,” James chides.

Shoulders falling, Wally pouts. “Well… damnit.” Here he goes again.

**Author's Note:**

> Can't sleep, so I figured I finish this up and post it. It's been a rough day. Roughest of all is having lost a friend... Is having not been there for them. It's realizing it's too late, because they're already ash.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this fic. Not sure what I'm planning next, but we'll see.


End file.
